“filled with feeling but generally paralyzed.” By Sasha at her desk


Thursday February 2, 2017
2:09pm
5 minutes
From an interview with Miranda July in LENNY letter

always
filled with feeling
but generally unsure
where to place it

so it lands
in a throat
hides behind
a shoulder blade
cuts through the
softness below
the belly
button

unsure where to
categorize
alphabetize
energize
feeling lands
where we least
expect

in the space
between this
and that
on the coffee
table below
the book
of salvador
dali

so much
is accomplished
in stillness

“bring it with me” by Julia at her dining table


Tuesday January 17, 2017
9:19pm..
5 minutes
from an email

I don’t think I’d be able to leave it anywhere else. Not under the bed or in the closet. Not on the shelf or in the key house. I’d have to bring it with me because there is no place it belongs better than the place I’ve built. I carry it; the last thing you gave me. The world could shake me down till I were naked branch and still not be able to pry the light of you from me. I have stitched it on tight. I wear it when I cannot hold it. I wrap it when I need it bigger. I couldn’t leave that behind. Things already happen just so already…things already break too easy.

“It’s hot in here” By Julia at Bean Around The World


Friday July 22, 2016 at BATW
7:33am
5 minutes
Overheard at the No Frills

He tells me it doesn’t feel like there’s any oxygen in the air today. He tells me that ‘outside’ is trying to compress him, make him small. We round the corner by the Mac’s and see a dog squatting to relieve herself. See? He says. See what I mean?
I try to hold his hand but he only lets me take his forefinger. Something about energies and needing most of ‘them’ free. I don’t know if I’ve just never noticed before, or if it’s new. His voice trembles a little bit when he speaks. I want to ask him about it but now doesn’t feel like the time. We make our way to the coffee shop to get a couple donuts, dodging three (or “one hundred”) babies as we line up to order our espresso. It’s hot in here, he tells me. The whole world is on fire.

“Be aware.” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday, September 7, 2015
7:58pm
5 minutes
from a residential security poster

S: Do you even know the energy you’re putting out?
K: Nope?
S: It’s like carbon monoxide.
K: What?
S: Carbon monoxide? Poisoning?
K. takes out their phone and starts Googling.
K: (Reading) “Carbon Monoxide is a colourless, odourless gas that can kill you.”
S: (Self satisfied) Mmhmm –
K: “When exposed to CO symptoms include vomiting, dizziness, chest pains…”
S. coughs.
K: I don’t see an vomit around here –
S: Ever since you got back from Mexico you’ve been spreading poison all over this house and I’m tired of it!
K: Tell me how you really feel!
S: I AM!
K: I KNOW!
A moment of quiet.
K: Do you feel better now?
S: A bit…
K: Tell me, what energy are you putting out? If you were going to classify it or compare it to a chemical or odourless gas or whatever?

“GOOD BOY!” By Julia at George Brown Theatre School


Tuesday, April 13, 2015
7:01pm
5 minutes
Overheard at Kits Beach

He strokes the skin right behind my ears. Tells me I’m soft, but I’m hiding it. He takes his tongue to the edge of where is expected. He lightly drags it up my neck to my ear lobe. He pauses. He whispers. “You taste like sunset.” He continues. My earlobe is in his mouth now, the softness being swallowed, chewed, ignited. Tells me I don’t have to be afraid of magic. I start to tell him I’m not–he devours me whole. “Shhh” he croons. “Don’t fight it. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I try again, “I’m not afraid. I’m fine.” He groans in a gentle way, holding my head up with his thumb and forefinger.

“we realize we can’t eat money” by Julia at her desk


Saturday March 21, 2015
6:24pm
5 minutes
from an Indian Proverb

It stops me in my tracks for a second. We can’t keep it, eat it, turn it into fuel and be nurtured by it. We can’t take it with us, weave it into our bodies, make it anything but what it is. It stops me. It stops me in my tracks. When the world is spinning so fast it looks like it’s still..
That’s how it hits me, moves me, like a tectonic plate. I don’t know what I need usually -to remember this. A baby’s laughter, the oil painting of a woman breast feeding her new-born, a warm hug that lasts for at least 6 seconds, the poetry I buy with the currency of my tears. I am energy, I eat energy, I do not eat money. I wear artistic expression. I do not wear money. I think in hearts and hope. I do not think in money.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” By Julia on her couch


Saturday January 24, 2015
6:29pm
5 minutes
The Green-ish pilot

Ari told me to ask the Universe for what I wanted in life and make it very specific. She said, “what’s the harm in asking?” And I didn’t have an answer so I told her I didn’t know and that I would try it this weekend. I realized she wanted me to do it in that very moment while she was there so she could share it with me, but I’ve never been very good at asking for help and I didn’t want her to catch me in the middle of my ineptitude. It would shine brightly, stick out like a sore thumb, and remind everyone that I don’t have a clue. So I thought of Ari as I walked home in the most perfect light and Canadian snow, and wondered for the first time if asking was actually easy..Once you strip it bare of its shame and crippling vulnerability…
I remembered once asking my dad if he could lend me $1100.00. Some might argue that asking him or the universe was actually the same thing..

“your your ene me” by Julia at Jess’ kitchen table


Tuesday January 20, 2015
11:21pm
5 minutes
from Hairspray Queen
Kurt Cobain Journals


You’ve got that “I have to win” look in your eyes.
You don’t know how to not have it. Need to.
Want to.
Get to.
You do.
You’ve got that thing.
And it’s not just a look.
And it’s not just an idea.
It’s a desire, carnal, tangy.
It’s deep down.
Deep deep down-
Ocean blue black, immaculate.
Where you keep all your truths-
Where you let them wear sea pearls and dance together in the dark.
Win it.
Win this.
Fighting to win.
Fighting to fight.
Cause if you lose it-
If you ever give up on that look in your eyes-
The one telling you to rise up and take it
earn it
deserve it
own it-
Then you’ll be dark, midnight waves.
You’ll be deep dark like the hidden-
And imagined.

“there’s plenty for everyone to do.” by Julia on Katie’s couch


Sunday December 14
1:33am
5 minutes
Eyewitness Travel London

Does everyone see how it works? It’s not a terribly easy concept so if you don’t, please speak up and let one of us know. No judgement in the room, can we hear everyone say that together? MMMMM NO JUDGEMENT IN THE ROOM….yes. Brilliant energy everyone. See how when we chant together we enliven the entire room? It’s a nice feeling, filling a space with a collective calm, isn’t it? Who is feeling a bit out of sorts? Does anyone need further clarification? Would it be useful to some if I turned off the lights, had everyone close their eyes and simply extend a hand if they were needing a bit of help? This way no one will be able to see the person who needs this extra assistance and I will walk about the room and feel their hand as a cry for help? And no one will be shamed for being unable to comprehend the basic instructions that are, of course, incredibly difficult to grasp?